Linguistic Erosion

Contributor: Miles Gough - - It was an odd evening with the Grand Fiend. He was reluctant to talk. He begged forgiveness by stating he had a large meal earlier and it was not agreeing with him. He did not need to explain; it was obvious from his distended stomach and from his dinner kicking and hitting. I could see the rumbles and stretched areas where I made out the shape of the desperate fist. Truly, I could almost identify the brand of the boot pushing futilely for some freedom. “Oh, how I wish for fleeter gastric acids. But that is beyond anyone’s control. The part I can control is the ostentatious flourish I have of swallowing my prey whole. It does nothing for the taste, just a party trick that amuses. Like someone who can toss peanuts high in the air and have them land in opened mouth every time. Of course, peanuts are small...

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